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The Fickle Finger of Fate - Visitor's Poem

by Richard John Scarr
(Brighton, East Sussex, England)

If what will be will be.
Then I know it rests with me.
To accept the fact, and do the best I can.
For if it is ordained.
As I think I've just explained. It will be,
because it is part of fate's great plan.
If it is divined.
Then it would be a waste of time.
For me to even think of giving less.
I could just let time go by.
And then not even try.
But fate will still decide the worst or best.
When we're off to catch a plane.
We end up waiting for a train.
And then arrive about an hour late.
It is me who gets the blame,
because we've missed the plane,
But no one points a finger at fickle fate.
I thrust down with the hoe.
Right onto my big toe.
The fickle finger of fate can be malicious.
But I don't stand there and sob.
And watch my big toe throb.
I say: "Thank you finger of fate, that feels delicious!"
There is just one way to go.
And that is with the flow.
Why try to fight intended circumstance?
I'll bide my time instead.
And when it turns its head.
I'll give the finger of fate a good kick up the pants!

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